


From Battles Never Done

by Lassarina



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-28
Updated: 2009-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:49:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lassarina/pseuds/Lassarina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in the World of Ruin, some things still grow - like friendships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Battles Never Done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astrangerenters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/gifts).



> The prompt for this fic was, _FF6, Edgar, Celes, World of Ruin. Some ideas: Edgar's "secret" identity, Celes coping with a missing Locke, an unlikely relationship or bond developing between them. Romance or friendship, any rating (but any relationship should be consensual)._ The title is from WB Yeats' "The Rose of Battle," which seemed kind of fitting for Celes.

With the tentacles slain, the engine room of Figaro Castle suddenly roared to full life, and the stones underfoot began to shake as the castle moved ponderously on its way. Edgar refused to budge until he was assured that the monster had done no permanent damage to his precious engine, so Celes took up a position near the wall and began to clean tentacle slime off her sword. Edgar was nearly upside-down, his entire upper body wedged into an impossibly small space between two pistons, seemingly unaware of the danger of being that close to the moving machinery. Celes was no mechanic, but whatever he was doing was altering the noises that the engine made, eliminating some of the horrifically high-pitched squeaks that abraded her ears.

When at last the castle shuddered to a halt, and the noise level became bearable, she sheathed her sword and walked to the door. "Edgar," she called back over her shoulder.

"Yes?" He looked up from the gear he was examining, his face practically black with engine grease, which made his pale hair a very startling contrast.

"When attempting to travel incognito, it is generally best if one does not use a variant of one's true name."

She left him spluttering protests behind her, and went upstairs to rest.  
 ~*~

"Isn't that Locke's?"

Celes glanced up and saw Edgar staring at the bandanna in her hand. She closed her hand tightly around the neatly folded square of dark blue silk and met his gaze with a blank expression. "Why should it matter?"

Edgar leaned against the blackjack table and stared at her until she grew uncomfortable, but she would not surrender, so she stiffened her spine and kept her eyes on his. The only sound was the whirring of the _Falcon's_ engines as Setzer navigated toward their next destination.

"I'm not your enemy," he said, after a long silence. "None of us are."

"If you were my enemy, you would be dead." It was a simple statement of fact, like saying that the sky used to be blue or that the wind was blowing.

He nodded. "I am indeed pleased not to be your enemy," he said, and she was unsure if he was mocking her.

She slipped the bandanna into her pocket, and headed up to the deck to see how long it would be until they reached Maranda.

~*~

Before, Thamasa had been rich with magic, an unseen presence that purred against her skin like a contented cat. She had felt alive here in a way that nowhere else, not even the Magi-tek Lab in Vector, had made her feel.

Now, the magic twanged like a wrongly struck note, grating like sandpaper scraped across her skin. She caught herself rubbing her hands over her arms as though to soothe, though there was nothing physical to brush away.

"Celes, why don't you wait on the _Falcon?"_ Edgar startled her by his sudden appearance at her elbow, and she cursed herself for her carelessness. The wrongness of the magic here distracted her, dulled her senses.

"I finish what I start," she said in reply to his question.

"We're almost done here, and I can tell you aren't feeling well, which means you _really_ aren't feeling well. Stop being stubborn."

"I don't back down from a fight," she said, and was surprised at the edge to her own voice.

"I never said you did," Edgar said, "but you're a general. You know that you'll be less effective in battle if you continue to put yourself in a draining situation unnecessarily."

"Don't presume to tell me how to handle myself," she said calmly, despite the sting to her pride.

He met her gaze without flinching.

She nodded faintly, and turned to go back to the airship. The familiar empty desolation of the ruined world was a relief after the warped ends of magic from Thamasa.

~*~

"I heard something you might want to know," Edgar said, raising his voice to be heard over the rushing wind.

Celes turned to face him. "What?"

"Locke passed through here," Edgar said, gesturing behind him to indicate the city of Jidoor, which they had just left.

Celes's hand closed tightly around the bandanna in her pocket. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't see him myself." Edgar smirked. "But yes, I am fairly certain they saw him."

Celes looked over the railing to watch Jidoor as it fell away behind them. "How long ago?"

"A month or so." Edgar braced his elbows on the railing. "The note we found behind the portrait of Emperor Gestahl—did you notice anything about it?"

Celes frowned, trying to draw it to mind. "Not in particular, no." Edgar had flipped the portrait over and found the letter tucked neatly into the back of the frame.

"I did." For once, the King of Figaro looked serious instead of playful or flirtatious. "The dust on the back of the portrait had been disturbed. Maybe like someone had already read the note."

"You think it was Locke?" Celes thought of the note, which had said _the treasure is hidden where the mountains form a star._

"I think he headed there, and that he left the note so we'd know where to look for him. So what do you say, General? Shall we go after this treasure?" Edgar grinned at her.

"I'm not a general anymore," she said softly.

"My apologies, my lady." Edgar presented her with a florid bow, the effect of which was rather ruined when the wind caused his cloak to entangle his limbs. He struggled free, made a more elegant if less ostentatious bow, and turned to leave.

"Edgar, wait," Celes said quickly.

"Yes?" He looked back.

The words caught in her throat, but she forced them out. "Thank you."

Edgar stepped closer to put a hand on her shoulder, the first time someone had touched her in months, and she almost thought she could feel the warmth of his hand through her armour. "You're welcome."


End file.
